


The Stars Taunt Us

by TheSmallTownGirl



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, M/M, Pining Simon Snow, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Sad Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallTownGirl/pseuds/TheSmallTownGirl
Summary: Simon and Baz broke up a year ago, and after all that time, they see each other again at a club. Will an old flame re-spark, or is leaving it put out for the best?
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a labor of love, and I adored writing this one. I hope you enjoy!

***Baz's POV***

It's been a year. A year since I have held Simon Snow in my arms. A year since I've kissed him and told him I loved him. For 365 days, I've barely scraped by in this bloody worthlessness of an existence. And I will be drawn and fucking quartered if I manage to stay sober tonight. I can't stop thinking about how he ended it.

_"Baz, I just- I can't!" Simon looked at me like he was tired. Tired of what?_ _  
_ _"You can't_ what _, Snow? You can't_ touch _me? I don't care! I love you!" We were shouting in our apartment. We were just kissing when he had pulled away and started to shout. He tugged at his hair then, and his tail was whipping around furiously._

_"I can't... I can't do_ this. _Baz, I think I need some... some time. I just can't be with you in the way you want me to be."_

_"Snow, anywhere you are is where I want to be. I don't care if you don't talk to me or touch me. I don't even care if you look at me. I can't be happy without you," I was trying (and failing) not to cry. He had been crying too, and it felt like the world was finally ending. "Please, Simon. We can work this out."_

_He paused for a moment, seeming like maybe he wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that we could fix the broken mess that was us. He just shook his head. "I-I'm sorry." He looked away from me. With a sigh, I left our apartment and slammed the door behind me. I didn't go back._

When someone says that they're done with you, they mean it. When someone tosses you to the side like some piece of fucking trash, do you stay and fight for them, or accept that all you are to them is garbage? When someone says they don't give a bloody shit about you... they probably genuinely don't give a shit. Simon Snow told me to leave. Told me that he didn't want me anymore. (Honestly, I wasn't surprised. I had always waited for the day when he changed his mind. He finally did.) I could have stayed and fought for someone who didn't want me or I could have fucked right off. To me, the answer was simple.

I left. When I was younger and living with Simon at Watford, I spent everyday telling myself that it would end in flames. I suppose it finally did. It ended in huge, evil-eyed and hungry flames. It got better after a few months. I got a job as a barista for the time being until I can get a real job. (I made sure it wasn't a coffee shop that Snow ever went to.) Everything was going just bloody fine until this morning, the anniversary of our break-up. I woke up in a sweat from a nightmare (of Snow dying, of course. Irony is the bitch- not karma) and rolled over, reaching for and trying to find Simon. He wasn't there, of course. I went to the shower and cried until it felt as though my lungs would collapse if I didn't stop. (I'm not so sure they didn't.)

Now, here I am, putting on a jacket to go to a club. Not to get laid or dance (I could never be with anyone who's not Snow), but to get completely shit-faced and momentarily forget the pain that comes with loving Simon Snow.

The night sky is taunting and teasing me. The stars wrap around each other, dancing and twinkling together like even the sun itself couldn't separate them. (I went dancing with Simon, once. He was clumsy, and I thought it was cute) (stop fucking _thinking_ , Basilton.) It's clear and the night air is sharp on my face, though I'm too lost in my thoughts to really notice. My apartment is straight across from a good bar that I go to every now and then. (My apartment looks nothing like my old one; I also had to buy all new things. I never bothered picking up my old ones from Simon and I's old apartment.)

Every Saturday the bar has a new theme. Tonight the theme is Western, judging by the ghastly amount of spurs and fringe I see as I walk in. People line dance every which way, and a few truly tabled people beckon me over to dance with them. (If I'm not as hammered as them in the next hour, I might just set myself on fire.) I make a beeline straight to the bar and order a scotch, flat. I need as much undiluted alcohol in my system as I can get tonight.

Just as I down my third drink of the night, I look over to see none other than Simon fucking Snow in the middle of the crowd. I think of the stars again.

***Simon's POV***

****I did not give him permission to look so fucking good a year after I broke up with him. I came to this godforsaken bar hoping to get away from just the very _thought_ of Baz. Now here he is, handsome enough to make all of the stars in the night sky bow down to him. He doesn't see me yet, which is good because I have a little bit longer to just stare at him. His jeans fit him perfectly (as always), and he even manages to make a t-shirt and jacket look posh. (In a bloody good way.) Half of his hair is tied up in a bun, the rest falling down in crazy strands.

Penny wanted to come out with me tonight, but I insisted that I come alone. I told her I needed to get over Baz. (I don't see how that can fucking happen when he's _right here in front of me_.) In the past year, I've either been sleeping, eating or crying. When I broke up with him and he stormed off... I didn't think he'd actually stay gone. I thought he'd stay and fight. And when he didn't, I at least thought that he would come back to get his stuff and I could get him to stay. But he never came back. I spent the first month crying into his shirts and inhaling his scent of cedar and bergamot that he left behind. I spent the second month laying on our couch, waiting for him to come through the door. I spent the third sleeping excessively, even when I wasn't tired. The fourth, I went out looking for him. I looked at nearby coffee shops, book stores and even at his aunt Fiona's. (She shut the door in my face right after cussing me out.)

I spent every month after that eating, crying and sleeping. Barely getting up long enough to change. After a year, I thought maybe it was time to come out again. (I was wrong.) But here he is, looking as beautiful and _Baz_ as ever, and all I want to do is curl up in his arms and be guarded from the rest of the world.

But before I can walk over and talk to him, he sees me. He holds my stare for a few moments (his eyes as grey and perfect as ever) before he abruptly gets up, nearly knocking the bar stool over, and gets lost in the crowd of sweaty bodies. I need to try and find him.

***Baz's POV***

Stars. I'm seeing stars. I can't see straight, I can't think straight. When I met Simon's eyes, he looked sad. (Sad? Sad.) He looked hopeful. (Yes, I think it was bloody hope that I saw there.) He looked like a chubby, kicked puppy that hadn't seen the light of day in years. (Good. I hope he fucking regrets dumping my bloody arse.) (I also hope he's having a good life. I hate myself.) I told myself I wouldn't dance. (I'm not good at any dance that isn't a waltz.) I promised myself that I would glue my arse to the bar stool and drink until I couldn't walk without falling every few seconds. I promised myself that I would drink until my head throbbed and I couldn't even _think_ anymore. It turns out that seeing Simon has the same effect.

As soon as he started walking towards me, I sprang up (stumbling a little) and bolted into the crowd. I can't talk to him. I can't look at him without wanting to snog him silly and then hit him and then bite him, and then snog him again. (After all these years, my feelings for Snow are still warped.) Now, even though I can barely see because of the tears in my eyes, apparently I'm dancing seductively to a country song about girls with a man. A man my age. He's good-looking yes, but I'm not sure how I got here. How I started dancing. (Maybe I am a little drunk.) The man has his hands on my hips, and my arms are around his neck and I feel his breath and he's _close close close_.

But as soon as the music switches to the next song, he's gone and the song is now a slower one. I don't know where to go when I see Simon standing ten feet away from me, standing perfectly still, staring right back at me. I _refuse_ to lose my cool more than I already have. I keep my face perfectly still and I don't move my feet, even as he takes a step closer. I don't run. (I don't run _to_ him or _away from_ him, which are the two things my heart wants most right now.) He's still so beautiful. So heart-breakingly alive.

As he gets closer to me, it's like everything else freezes; for just a second. Everything else melts away, and it's just me and him. The slow music plays far, far away and the only heat I feel is the heat radiating from _him._ He smiles such a sad smile that I have to smile back. It's a smile of strangers; a smile two people might share when not seeing each other for years and years. (Every _day_ away from him felt like a year.) But right now- right this _very second_ \- time is slowing, just for me. Just like a gift (and a curse). It's a gift and a curse as he gets so close that I can smell his breath. A gift and a curse that I can feel his heart thrum, and see the specks of ordinary dark blue in his ordinary light blue eyes. A gift and a curse as he wraps two arms around my neck, pressing impossibly closer. I hesitantly (which takes everything in me) wrap my arms around his waist and press my forehead to his as we sway back and forth to the music playing light years away.

Looking into his (extra)ordinary eyes, I see all of the love that was there once upon a time. I see stars twinkle and waltz in his eyes. The stars in his eyes tease me, flicking all down my face. From my eyes to my mouth, then back to my eyes. Simon leans forward and up on his toes in my ear and says "I love you Baz," and as he pulls back, he ever-so-gently pushes his lips against mine. Here he his, saying the things I've wanted to hear for years, kissing me and doing that _thing with his jaw_ , and I don't feel it. He broke my heart. Ripped it from my chest, danced on it, and then kept the pieces for himself. It was a fate worse than death. I can't _feel_ it. This is _wrong_.

***Simon's POV***

****Aleister _Crowley_ , this is so right. Morgan, Methuselah and Morgana. Everything from the past, even back to our Watford days, have been leading up to _this_. _Fireworks_. It's like if all of the planets, the sun and every single star combined and exploded. That is this kiss. His mouth is soft and cold, just as I remember it. My heart is full of so much love, and our bodies fit back together like puzzle pieces. Apparently Baz is the very fucking air I breathe, because as soon as I pressed my lips to his, it's like my whole body bloody sighed. Like I was filled with oxygen, and I could finally _finally_ release it again.

Which is why, when he springs away like I've burned him, it feels as though all of the air is ripped from my lungs. He stumbles back and looks at me the way he used to when we were back at Watford. With disgust, revulsion and a little bit of sadness. His eyes fill with tears as he takes off out of the bar. I chase after him, trying to call after him, but he doesn't turn around. I'll never be as fast as him by running, but I have _wings._ I didn't have Penny make them completely disappear this time- just veil them. People were running into them all night, but when I saw Baz, I mostly just didn't notice. But now I lift off into the sky, flying over him and trying to remain as discreet as possible. (Penny would have a bloody fit if she saw me being so _in_ discreet about it. But all I care about right now is Baz.)

Looking above my shoulder, I see the stars light up the night sky in unison, like they're working together. Like they should never and _could_ never be separated. I'll bet the stars aren't as stupid as me; they probably never yell meaningless things at each other. They look so beautiful together... they're taunting me.

***Baz's POV***

****I run and I run and I _run_ until I can't run anymore. I just have to get _away_. Away from Simon, away from the bar, away from the _memories_. I run like I'm trying to get away from all of London itself.

***Simon's POV***

He finally stops on the top of a hill. He falls down and his chest heaves like he's out of breath- I think he might be crying, too. I just need to talk to him. I land down a few feet from him as he rolls over on his back, staring up at the sky. I walk over to him, but he doesn't look at me. He just keeps staring up.

"Baz?" I ask gently. Softly; like I'm carefully stepping on glass.

"Don't, Snow." He says simply, sighing. My heart tightens.

"But, Baz-" I push.

"Simon... please. Don't- just... just not right now." I nod and stay silent as I lay beside him, trying to ignore the way it hurts my wings. I don't try to reach out. I simply enjoy being by his side without him pushing me away. I can't make him love me if he doesn't... but I sure as bloody hell won't give up on us this time.

***Baz's POV***

****Simon is lying beside me. I'm looking at the sky. At the stars. At _us_ , in a way. Just like stars, we feel thousands of miles away. It feels like we'll never come together again. (When two stars collide, it either makes a bigger star or a black hole. We made... well, we just made a bloody mess, didn't we?) We stay like this for a long time, staring off into the night, not saying anything. The stars still dance together; orbiting each other without crashing and burning.

The stars taunt us. 


	2. Can Stars Reconnect?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz attempt to reconnect and go back to the way they were... before.

***Baz's POV***

****I left Simon alone on the hill hours ago. I just had to get away from him and his blue eyes and his bronze curls and just his overall Simon Snow-ness. I let him lay on the hill with me because I thought that for once in his fucking life, he'd stay quiet and let me think. Merlin, was I wrong.

_It hadn't even been ten minutes before Simon started talking again. "Baz, I know that I hurt you, but-"_

_"Snow. Enough." He looked over at me as though he physically couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his mouth. (I was foolish to believe I could get even a moment of silence when I'm near him.) He stayed quiet for only a minute before he spoke again._

_"Listen, I_ know _that I broke your heart, and that wasn't okay. But I... well, I thought you'd come right back, now didn't I? And I-"_

 _"Snow, just fucking stop! I can't... I need some space. Just_ text _me, for Crowley's sake!" I stormed off in a huff, leaving my Snow (I suppose he's not_ my _Snow anymore) all alone on the hill, leaving me to look up at the stars in jealousy._

I can't even bloody _think_ when I'm around Simon. An hour or so after I left, I got a text from him.

 _We should talk, Baz._ He texted an hour ago.

 _Just meet me at the cafe tomorrow @ 12. I'll be waiting._ He texted half an hour ago. I didn't respond.

Of course I know exactly what fucking cafe he's talking about. The quaint little one on the corner of Piccadilly Circus and Coventry Street. We went there once in the pouring rain. I was ravenous; I didn't even bother covering my mouth when I ate. Snow loved it so much (he said he loved _me_ so much that very same day) that we started going there at least once a week. It became our 'spot', so to speak. Our safe place.

I don't have a safe place anymore. My safe place used to be my room at Watford. Shortly after it had been anywhere Simon had been. Simon Snow _was_ my safe place. Now... I don't know. Maybe my safe place is just sitting on a hill, talking to the stars. I don't know yet if I'll meet him at the cafe (might be too many memories- I shouldn't be influenced), but if I know Simon Snow (and I _do_... in a way I thought he'd never let me), I know that he'll never leave me alone (Crowley, I still don't know if I want him to leave me alone) unless I meet him. So I suppose I should.

I'm on the roof of my flat complex now, in my new safe place. I sit on the roof, my back against a wall, staring at the stars. _Wishing_ that I could stop loving Simon Snow.

***Simon's POV***

****I'm at the cafe now. When Baz left me on the hill last night, I just laid there for a very long while, thinking. Thinking about us. Thinking about the stars. I am going to fight for him- I just _have_ to. I can't let us die again. I know that he thinks I broke his heart (okay, technically I _did_ , but that's beside the point) but maybe I just cracked it. Fractured it ever so slightly. One time I fractured my ankle. (Thanks to Baz.) But because of that, I know that with time, fractures can be healed. _We_ can be healed. His _heart_ can be healed.

I know that he'll know which cafe I told him to meet me at. It's our cafe- our safe place. It's the place that I knew I fell in love with him. (Not the place that I _did_ fall in love with him; that took time, denial, a few hits to the head and one kiss in a burning forest.) If I just give him a (slightly) reasonable amount of space and I play my cards right, I know I can get him back. For Merlin's sake, not to sound cocky, but Baz has _told_ me that he fell in love with me years ago. Madly in love. And a love like that doesn't very well just go away over the course of a year.

I'm seated at a small table ( _our_ table- we carved our names into the bottom) tucked away in a corner with a hot chocolate and Baz's coffee when he walks in. His hair is all down now, falling in lazy waves all around his face. (He might've done it on purpose- he knows it's my favorite way that he wears his hair.) His shirt is unbuttoned part-way and he's wearing the jeans that fit him _so_ nicely. (Fucking _space_ , Simon. _Space._ ) He doesn't even look around for me. He just walks straight towards our table, seeming to already know that I've got him his drink. He walks with an air of confidence he's always had, but I know him well enough to know that he's a bit nervous. (He's running his tongue over his canines- a nervous habit.) When he sits down, he grabs his drink from me and looks me in the eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"You have ten minutes, Snow. Why am I here?" I'm not at all surprised by his assertiveness and get-to-the-point attitude. He's not one to make small talk. (After _years_ with the bastard, he hardly ever surprises me with that anymore.)

"Okay, well, erm..." I had a whole speech planned out, but I've never been good with words. Thankfully, Baz knows that and stays quiet, waiting for me to get a grip. "Baz, I know that the way things ended between us was bad," He scoffs and rolls his eyes. I resist the age-old urge to growl at him. "But I was stupid then. I was in a bad place, and I just wanted you to be happy... I thought I was just holding you back. I didn't know that I was making you happy, and that just killed me. But Baz, I was wrong. We're like..." I search for the words. "We're like stars."

He mutters something along the lines of, "You can say that again..." But he doesn't continue the thought as he lets me finish.

"They can be separate for Merlin knows how long, but they _always_ find their way to each other eventually. That's _us_ , Baz. We spent so much of our childhood separate, in a way, and we weren't together for too long before the world decided to fuck it up again. And then, even when we found our way back _again_ , we were separated because I'm a fuckup... _again_. But I think we can get it right this time. We can find our way back to each other for good. Just... just let me _prove_ it to you. We can take it slow. As slow as you want. But," I take his hands in mine and I look into his eyes that are two deep pools of grey. "I don't want to lose you again..." I wait for him to say something, but he stays quiet. "Well?" I want to know what he's thinking.

***Baz's POV***

****I don't know what I'm thinking. All of these pretty words dance off of his tongue, but I just can't feel it anymore. I don't feel the fire that was once there, and I don't feel the trust and safety that came after and with the fire. I just... I feel _tired_. Tired of the back and forth. I just want to _want_ and _be wanted_. But not just when it's convenient- I want it to be a constant. But then again... maybe it will come back with time? And here he is, looking at me with all of this _hope_ in his eyes, and he's _talking about the stars_...

"Sure, Snow. I guess... I guess we can give it a bloody try," I let out a sigh as though it's work to be doing this (it really is, I suppose), but I can't keep the small smile off of my face as his whole face spreads into a shit-eating grin. _Crowley_ , he may make me want to fold in on myself and implode, but fuck if he doesn't have a lovely smile.

"Good- uh, perfect. Well then," He gives my hand a squeeze as he stumbles over his words. (I used to find it endearing- it's starting to get annoying now, to be quite honest.) "Can I take you out this evening?" I nod my head and sigh again like I can't help it. (I feel as though it may be a real sigh this time- I don't quite feel like swooning much anymore.)

...

We're out to the cinema and watching a truly treacherous movie called 'Twilight'. (It was Simon's idea- I wasn't surprised.) Maybe a year ago, I would've found it humorous that this was the movie he picked for us to go see. But after having taken a step back from our relationship, it feels... a bit insensitive of him. Thoughtless, perhaps. Although I try not to complain too much because he's been holding my hand the whole time, and it feels like it had felt all those years ago when he could touch me without running. It doesn't feel like electricity or fire, or even like anything remotely passionate (even as he leans in to place a kiss on my neck and rest his head on my shoulder). It doesn't feel _bad_ , I mean... _nice_. It feels nice. But every time he laughs in my ear or leans in to kiss me softly, I feel a dull ache in my chest; perhaps where my heart used to be before he stole the broken pieces for himself.

By the end of the movie, I am thoroughly offended at the vampire cliches, but Simon (of course) loved every second of it. (Is it cute or sweet that he's taken such an interest in vampire cliches? It feels weird when he could just ask a real one about the _real_ things surrounding vampire lore.) We stay hand in hand (I remember what it felt like when I loved it; it felt like fireworks in my chest) all the way until he walks me up to right outside my flat. It feels like how it looks in the romcom movies (Simon used to make me watch them)- it's awkward, and we don't know what to do. Crowley, it might be even more awkward since we used to date.

"Well, Snow, thanks for... the movie." (I can barely even call that garbage film a movie- it feels like disrespect to cinematography.) Before I can turn to walk up to my flat, Simon grabs me by my collar and pulls me down, crashing our lips together. He's eager, like a puppy lapping up food, and since I don't know what else to do, I kiss him like I did the night of the forest fire. I remember what that passion felt like... like being set aflame from the inside out.

This feels like kissing a stranger.

...

Simon and I have been dating for three weeks. In some ways, it's gone back to how it was before he broke it off. There are soft touches and more jokes. I'm more comfortable around him now. We still have our own flats, and we haven't slept together. (Simon still has intimacy issues and I just.... well I don't mind, to say the least.) Although things have been good, and I can see going on like this for years, I still don't feel how I did a year ago.

Sometimes, when we're just sitting close together and watching a movie, it almost feels normal. Like we're back to our old lives. (Sidenote: I hang out more with Penny again. Aleister Crowley, I missed that little witch.) But we were separated for a _year_. And under the worst conditions possible. I had been so in love with him, and every single day I had waited for him to change his mind about me- about _us_. When he finally did, I felt as though what little soul I might have had left my body in search of a warmer home. My heart was, to put it simply, ripped from my chest and stomped on. That soul and that heart... they loved Simon Snow with every fibre of their beings. But whatever was left in their wake just _hurts_. Of course I still love him ( _so_ much); a love like that doesn't just _go_ _away_. But the longer it sits runeciprocated, the more it tears you limb from limb, leaving nothing but a numb shell behind.

But I don't know. Maybe those feelings will... come back one day? I suppose I'll just fake it until then. ( _I wonder if the stars ever fake their magnetism because it felt like the thing to do... I've been spending a lot of time in my safe place lately._ )

***Simon's POV***

****Baz and I have been dating for two months, and it feels as though we're right back where we were before we broke up... but it's so much _better_ this time. Every touch, every kiss, every look is _magic_. It's _passion_ , it's _fire_ , it's... it's _fireworks_. No one knows better than I do that you have limited time on this Earth. And because of that, I know that whatever I want to do while I'm in the world, I should get the fuck going. And number one on my list is spending the rest of my life with Baz. (Do stars spend the entirety of their lives together, or do they one day meet and fall in love?)

Right now we're in our safe place. Our cozy little table in the cafe that never seems to fail in being downright lovely. I can think of no better place to ask Baz what I want to ask him next. Right now he's just sipping his latte and staring off into space. "Hey Baz?" He looks at me, eyes still partially glazed over like he had been deep in thought.

"Yes, Snow?" I take a deep breath as I start talking.

"So, as you know, I love you with every fibre of my being. I love you more than life and Sour Cherry Scones. More than Romeo loved Juliet and more than the stars seem to love each other," (We talk about stars a lot.) "I know we're young. I also know that this life is short, and we've already been through so much together and apart. I think we work better as team- we face challenges and other people better _together_. You are my partner in crime. I know that we've had a bloody rocky past, and we may not have the easiest present, either." I get down on one knee, bringing up the ring box to be held in front of his face. He looks like he's in shock, but I can't tell if it's good or bad. "But I think that we can make damn well sure that we have the best future ahead of us as possible. And the only way I can see my future is if you're in it, right there beside me. So... will you be my terrible, terrible husband?" I look up at him, hope in my heart as he takes the ring in his fingers, studying the band.

"'He told me we were stars...'" He whispers the engravement on the inside of the wedding band. He stands up with the ring, looking down at me, a set look on his face. (I don't know what it means.) His eyes hold the stars. 


	3. Supernovas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz has a choice to make that could make or break him and Simon. Will he stay with what he knows and loves, or try to start fresh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is much better when you're listening to music if you can. Here are the songs I listened to while writing it, in order:
> 
> \- Give Me Love, Ed Sheeran
> 
> \- Bite, Troye Sivan
> 
> \- A Drop in the Ocean, Ron Pope
> 
> \- Make it to Me, Sam Smith
> 
> \- Creep, Radiohead
> 
> \- Apocalypse, Cigarettes After Sex
> 
> \- All I Ask, Adele (I strongly recommend listening to this one at the end of this. It adds a lot to the emotion.)
> 
> Anyway, I thought long and hard about what I wanted to happen in this one, so I hope you enjoy!

***Baz's POV***

****I wasn't expecting this. Simon Snow down on one knee with a ring in his hand, telling me to take a chance on us. When I don't speak right away, he says just that.

"Come on, Baz. Take a chance on us..." _But that's just the thing,_ I want to say to him. _I already did, all that time ago at Watford_. Part of me wants to fling into his arms and scream about _how fucking much_ I accept his proposal. But the other part of me just... it doesn't _fucking feel it_. We've been together for two months and they've been good. (Not as good as when we were first together- _nothing_ could compare to that.) _You wanted him to propose ages ago,_ my pesky brain tells me. _What the fuck is stopping you now?_

"I... I, erm- I just," I've never stuttered this much before, and I think it's making Simon nervous. "Simon, I need a week. Just a week to think about it. It's... a lot to take in." He once again looks like a kicked puppy, but not _all_ of the hope has drained out of his eyes. (Crowley, I feel just awful for making him feel so unhappy.) (Screw that; he made me unhappy for a _year_.) He nods slowly and gets up to stand right in front of me. I go to hand him back the ring, but he stops me.

"Baz, it's for _you_. Whether you accept the proposal or not, that's the ring I bought for you. You can keep it," I nod and tuck it safely into my shirt pocket. (It really is a bloody wonderful ring- the inscription made my heart flutter.) "I can give you all of the time to think in the world, love. Just know that I love you." _Where was that love a year ago?_ My heart wants to ask. But he scoops me into a long, slow kiss. I remember how I loved the way his jaw moved so long ago, and I try to focus on that instead of the itchy feeling that kissing him gives me.

I don't know when that happened. For so long after the break-up, I _craved_ his touch. I just want to feel his lips, his hands, his wings. But I suppose that now each touch feels a tad tainted; like I'm letting a stranger touch me. I mean, I _know_ Simon very, very well. He hasn't changed all too much since we were together. But for some reason, I just hasn't felt the same as how it did _before_ he broke my heart. (Maybe _broke_ isn't the right word- hearts don't break. He _stole_ my heart. Or maybe it simply stopped working for a little while.)

Then again, these past two months haven't been terrible. Going out to do stuff with him has been fun, and every now again we tease like old times. We hold hands, which isn't all around unpleasant. Just like now; we're sitting back at the table drinking our drinks while we hold hands across the table. I could imagine doing this for the rest of my life. (However long that is- I still don't know about the whole possible immortality.) I can imagine having nice afternoons with Simon and going to bed with him, back to back. Maybe occasionally _together_ together. Maybe we could get a dog. (And not for eating purposes.) Yeah, that sounds just fine.

But I need a week to think about it.

***Simon's POV***

****A week. I can deal with a week. I was surprised when he didn't say outright yes, but not too disappointed. I understand that he needs time; he'd be a bit loony if he didn't. We've been back together for just two months (two bloody _fantastic_ months, but only two nonetheless), and I know that I hurt him when I told him to leave. But I didn't really _mean_ it. Sometimes (quite frequently, really) I'll wonder what would have happened if I had gotten my shit together earlier and stayed with him. Merlin, we might've been married by now. It certainly _felt_ like it was going that way before I fucked everything up. Maybe he'd still look at me like I hung the stars just for his enjoyment. Maybe we would still snog each other like it was the end of the world. (Maybe it was. For us, anyway.)

I suppose I understand where he's coming from. I know I hurt him in ways that he didn't deserve to be hurt. I _know_ that. But I know I love him and I know he loves me... so why let one bloody mistake get in the way of a fucking lifetime of happiness? I don't know. But I have faith (that's a first) that he'll make the right decision by the end of the week. The right decision for not just _us_ but him, too. I'm pretty sure that he'll say yes by the end of this week, but then again, I was pretty sure that he'd come back when I broke up with him. I've been wrong a lot this past year.

Now we're back at my apartment, and I'm cooking dinner while Baz grumbles about there being nothing on the telly to watch. I take a moment from cooking to admire the way he looks. (I've been doing that a lot.) He has one arms draped over the back of the couch, legs crossed while flipping through the channels on the remote in his other hand. Somehow he always manages to look amazing, even when his hair is a mess and he's doing something as simple as looking for a show. I shake myself and get back to making spaghetti.

Just as I'm stirring the sauce, I feel arms wrap around my waist, a body moving around my wings, and the ghost of a kiss on the side of my cheek. Baz hasn't seemed very touchy feely lately, so I take this as an opportunity to lean back into his arms and melt under his touch. I can't help the sigh that escapes from my lips as he nuzzles his face into my neck. I just miss him so much. I know we've been together (again) for over two months, but I haven't felt _quite_ as close to him as I did before the break up. We've cuddled just the same, sure, but there aren't as many as thoughtless touches- like a casual kiss on the forehead, or the squeeze of a hand. I haven't been ready to go very _far_ , (not further than a proper snog now and then, with shirts off) but Baz hasn't seemed to mind. But even though we've felt separate lately, stars wait an _eternity_ to finally get to each other. What's a few months?  
"I love you, Baz." I breathe, still leaning into his touch. (Not caring about my wings for the moment.) He seems hesitant for a moment- like he doesn't quite know what to say.

"I love you too, Snow." I smile as I spin around to face him, spaghetti sauce long gone from my mind. His eyes shine (but with what I don't know) as he looks from my lips back to my eyes. He looks sad, but then again, he tends to look sad a lot. _Crowley_ , I wish I could make him happy.

***Baz's POV***

****Simon Snow is looking at me as though he's been wanting me for an eternity. (It sometimes feels that way- like we've been waiting as long as the stars for a happy ending.) I don't know why I decided to come and wrap my arms around him. Merlin, I don't even know why I kissed him. I suppose... I suppose I wanted the illusion of normalcy for just a bit, didn't I? The way it felt like it did over a bloody year ago when things were far from perfect, but at least they weren't _this_. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever get that back... I hope we do.

But for now, I just want to get _lost_ in Simon the way I used to. Lost in the novas that he holds in his eyes and trace the constellations of moles that he has all over. _He is a galaxy._ He is a living, breathing, galaxy. He could be _my_ galaxy. But that's just the thing- I never did know if the galaxy intrigued me, or if I always resented it... maybe a bit of both.

He leans forward and gently pushes his lips against mine, as though he's not sure if it's what I want. I'm torn between _it is_ and _it isn't_. I decide to forget my options as I just for once in my life, go along with something without any thought. His mouth works so _lovely_ against mine. (It doesn't feel the same as it used to- maybe it never will.)

The definition of a supernova: A star that suddenly increases greatly in brightness because of a catastrophic explosion that ejects most of its mass. Maybe we're the catastrophic explosion... but maybe we've also simply increased in brightness. Maybe we're both. But all I think about as I kiss him back gently is supernovas, and what that means, I'm not quite sure.

I try to avoid his wings as I softly move my hands up and down his back. His tail wraps around my leg just like it used too- just like it did when it drove me _crazy_. His hands are in my hair, and this whole thing just seems very... hesitant. Like we're both too afraid of breaking the other. (Maybe I'm just afraid of breaking myself- maybe I'm afraid of our inevitable explosion.) But I don't wish for more and I don't wish for less. Because for a moment- just a _moment_ , it feels like it did oh so long ago. It feels like it did when we were back in my apartment, snogging and feeling like fireworks until we had to sleep. This is nice. For a second I can imagine doing this for the rest of my life. (Although I'm not exactly sure how long that's supposed to be.)

But it's all washed away in one motion as smell of burning sauce fills our lungs. Simon springs away from me and toward the stove, trying to turn it off and fan away the smoke. Whatever bit of fire I had felt, it's gone now; the fire is replaced by an aching hole where my heart should have been before he stole it. He turns back, muttering his apologies, reaching back for me.

But I'm already back on the couch.

...

It's the night before I tell Simon my answer to his proposal... and I still have no idea what I'm going to do. I told him this morning that I needed the day to myself to think. This past week has been lovely; it's been like a tiny glimpse into the future I could have. The bloody problem is that I just don't know if it's the future I _want_. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with Simon Snow. Marrying him, getting a dog together (he never could shut up about getting a puppy), getting steady jobs. Getting a flat together. Maybe, _maybe_ , getting back to what we once were before. (I'm on my porch, staring up at the stars. After all, it's the stars that lead my back to him in the first place.)

In the beginning - the _very_ beginning of our story - I told myself that I couldn't let myself love Simon Snow. Then I fell in love, and I told myself that it _just wouldn't_ work. That he would marry Wellbelove and kill me. We were _destined_ to be enemies. I told myself constantly that I didn't want it to happen. And then when it _did_ happen, it felt like I was flying among the stars. I could see things _oh so very clearly._ But once real life started happening, I kept preparing myself for him to cast me aside. To suddenly change his mind and tell me he didn't want me anymore. And I was _finally_ telling myself that maybe he did want me after all... when he _did_ change his mind. And after so long of doing nothing but _wanting wanting wanting_ him and losing myself along the way... I'm not so sure that the want I feel for him is the most important thing in my life anymore. He _was_ my life for the longest time, and then I had to try and live without him. I _found_ myself more than I had in my whole life.

I could choose Snow, and I would get everything I've ever wanted since I was a child. I was get my very happy happily ever after. I would _get_ the hero. Or I could choose myself and risk losing absolutely everything fucking lovely in my life. I would be my _own_ hero. (Or my own villain, come to think of it.) It's either me, or Snow and the rest of my life. For once in his entire life... _maybe_ Simon has a run for his money.

I gaze up, letting the stars guide me.

...

I've made my decision, fully prepared for everything to come. I stayed out _late late_ on my porch last night, just thinking. I got hardly any sleep. But I've made up my mind, and I feel as clear-headed as I have in my entire life. After draining a deer this morning, I feel alert and ready for whatever the day decides to bring. I ultimately chose what would make me the absolute happiest in my life; I chose my _future_.

I knock on his door, so sure about the decision I've made. When he opens the door, morning sunlight streaming in behind him, making him look like an _absolute angel_ , my heart pings. Oh how I love this absolute fool.

"Morning, Simon." He's all awake and dressed, ready for my answer. And I'm ready to give it to him. He invites me in and has us sit on the couch, a good amount of space between us. Far enough that he can spring away if I say no, and close enough that he can fling himself into my arms if he says yes.

"Morning Baz. So... have you made a decision? Knowing you, I s'pose you have." He laughs lightly to himself before visibly readying himself for my response.

"Simon Snow, I have loved you since we were children," His eyes are alight with hope. "Bloody hell, of course I still love you. I spent my years wishing on shooting stars that you'd one day love me back. That I would get the _privilege_ of holding you and calling you mine. And once I finally got you, I _never_ wanted to let you go. Of course, I've never been fond of myself. Especially through the years of obsessively falling madly in love with you... I lost myself. I suppose, in a way, I _found_ myself, too. But mostly I felt lost, too focused on you to do anything else." I keep my voice steady. (Which is fucking hard.) "I constantly told myself that you would let me go as soon as things settled. I thought that I _never_ deserved love- let alone from _you_ , Simon Snow."

"Baz, you know that's not-" He cuts me off. I hold a hand up, telling him to stop.

"I know, Simon. I _know_. But just let me talk, love. So then, finally, when I started letting myself believe that it was real, that we were real... that your _love_ was real, that when you _did_ change your mind," He goes to cut me off again, but I stop him with a look. "I lost myself again. When I got you, I felt like I was completed. Like I was just half a person that needed you to make me complete and feel whole. So when we were separated, I tried finding myself again. Not the Baz that was lost and scared and confused. Not the Baz that was fucked by and completely bloody enamored with Simon Snow... just myself. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. And then when I had grown by myself, stronger than ever, I found you again. I found the love of my life again, but this time, I didn't _feel_ it. All I saw was the person that made my chest ache and my eyes fill with tears. Simon, I didn't want to get lost again. I was _so clear_. I had _just_ found myself. But one look into your starry eyes and I was lost again- defining myself by a boy whom I had once been in love with. A boy who was a _stranger_ now." We're both crying. We know what this means for us.

"You crushed me, rebuilt me, and then crushed me again more times than I can count; you did it without even blinking. I will always have a place for you, Simon Snow. But you stole my heart, and I need to find a way to regrow it on my own. Crowley, I can't feel complete with someone. I have to be complete and strong on my own. And I just don't think I can do that when I'm with you. I'm so sorry, love, but I have to choose me this time." I get up off the couch and when Simon doesn't move, I lean down to kiss the constellation on his cheek. I go to leave, standing by the door, looking back at him once more.

"Hey Baz?" He stops me, sorrow dripping into his voice. I quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring the tears streaming down my cheeks. "I hope you find yourself." I smile at him, my breath catching in my throat. He looks like the Simon I fell in love with.

I smile a heart-breaking smile at him and I say the only thing I can think of to say at the moment. "Send Bunce my best." He laughs through his tears and nods at me. Before I close the door, we just look each other in the eyes. _Those beautiful, (extra)ordinary, starry starry eyes that 11 year old Baz fell in love with._ We smile a sad smile; a smile of strangers. Maybe not _strangers_. Maybe strangers with a past... with a sad history. I nod one more time before closing the door. (Literally and figuratively, that is. Closing the literal door... and the door on our relationship.) That was the last time I'll ever see Simon Snow. (Sometimes stars are just meant to explode- not create anything bigger or brighter or _better_.)

Even as I hiccup and can't see through my tears, twisting his ring in my fingers... I know that the stars guided me right. For once in my life, I needed to choose _me._

I will have a happy ending. Simon will have a happy ending. We just won't have the _same_ happy ending. The moral is that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, two people just aren't meant to have a happy ending _together_.

***Simon's POV***

****I was just really, really hoping that he would be my happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a little less than a year ago, and am only just now getting around to posting it on here. I hope anyone who read it enjoyed!


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